


Drink All My Thoughts (I Can't Stand Them)

by ThePancakePenguin



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Hallucinations, Mental Instability, Sexual Content, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-14
Updated: 2017-06-14
Packaged: 2018-11-14 00:20:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11196528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePancakePenguin/pseuds/ThePancakePenguin
Summary: "Tyler! What are you doing? Let me in!""I'm fixing it," he mumbles, too quiet for Josh to hear through the door. "I'm fixing it."





	Drink All My Thoughts (I Can't Stand Them)

**Author's Note:**

> Its 3 am and I've been struck with inspiration, specifically by [edy's](https://archiveofourown.org/users/edy) fics
> 
> My first time writing anything explicitly sexual as well, so
> 
> Inspired by "Intertwined" by dodie
> 
> Sligh non con in the beginning. Or at least some consent issues.

Tyler squeaks as Josh starts thrusting, tightening his hold from where his arms are hooked under Josh's armpits.

Josh stops, pulls his head away from Tyler's neck, both of their sweat glistening on his hairline, his brow furrowed. "You good?"

Tyler hopes Josh thinks his chest shudders from anticipation. "Y-yeah, just...give me a second."

Josh shifts onto his elbows, unconvinced. "If you don't want too, it’s okay, we don't-"

"No, no," Tyler rubs a shaky hand down Josh's side, feels each of his ribs expand out, the skin stretch as he gasps slightly. "Really, I'm good. You can keep going."

Josh sighs, pushing himself up, spreading Tyler’s legs a little as he tries to pull out. "Tyler, I really don't-" he begins, but is stopped by Tyler firmly grasping the hair on the back of his neck and pulling him down. It's not a romantic kiss, like the ones they shared down on the couch, re-watching  _Finding Dory_ , sharing popcorn and nearly flat soda. It's aggressive, almost painful, teeth clacking together and scraping lips in what can only be hoped is lust filled desperation.

It isn't them.

Josh grunts, taking Tyler's wrists and pinning them above his head, panting. Usually he'd find it incredibly hot, and Tyler is still trying to convince him it is, moaning softly and squirming, his smirk not reaching his eyes. His facade slips when Josh doesn't move. "What?"

Josh loosens his grip, pulls out and throws his legs over the edge of the bed, resting his elbows on his knees. Next to him, Tyler rolls closer, brushing the small of his back. His fingertips are torn from biting his nails. "I told you, I'm good, why didn't you keep going?"

"You may be good, but I'm not," Josh plays along, just this once, ignoring that  _just this once_  is actually the third one this week. "How 'bout we just sleep? It's late."

"Hold me?" The request sounds rehearsed.

Josh slips under the covers, Tyler's back filling the empty space in front of him and let's his hand settle on his stomach.

"I love you," he mumbles into Tyler's shoulder.

Tyler nods, and pretends he doesn't flinch as Josh nuzzles him.

 

* * *

 

Josh wakes up alone. The sheets are cold.

He gets up and puts on the clothes he had lovingly removed the night before, sweet kisses pressed to his collar bone, a breathless giggle in his ear, a familiar weight in his arms.

Now, his arms feel constricted in their cotton sleeves, hairs pressed against his skin too tight. It's Tyler's shirt.

He keeps getting dressed.

He plods down the stairs, running his hand through his bleach-killed hair. He needs to dye it again. The pink's faded into a strange coppery-white.

His feet smack against the tiles of the kitchen floor, but not the same way that Tyler's do. Josh is a repetitive  _slap slap slap slap_ as he walks around, pouring milk and cereal into a bowl. Tyler's is only one foot, a quiet  _sshsshsshsshsshsshsshssh_ as he bounces his knee under the tables, a constantly changing tempo. His heel never touches the floor.

Josh sits across from him, shoveling some flakes and milk into his mouth. Tyler doesn't look up, doesn't acknowledge him, keeps stirring his soggy bowl with serving spoon.

Josh takes another bite of cereal.

 

* * *

 

Tyler licks the milk off his spoon, watches his saliva dry on the convex side as he balances the length of the utensil on the rim of his bowl.

He suppresses a shudder as he watches Josh's brain pulse and slip out of his cracked open skull through the reflection.

 

* * *

 

They do have sex that night, slow and deep and they way they always do. Tyler is affectionate and loving and encouraging Josh with  _IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou_ and Josh is caring and secure and whispers  _IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou_ into Tyler's throat where he can feel every gasp and moan as the spill from his lips.

They even hold hands. They still fit together perfectly.

Sated and sleepy, Tyler tangles himself with Josh, rubbing their messy bodies together.

Josh rubs his back, strokes his scalp, and lets himself melt.

 

* * *

 

Tyler leans against the counter, glaring at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. He can feel something wrong. Something incredibly wrong. He can't place it. He just knows it has something to do with him.

Josh isn't home. He's at the store, buying mundane things like eggs, and band aids, and batteries.

He's the one who could leave the house. Or at least convinced himself he could.

They usually go shopping together. They like to get all their errands done in one outing, so they don't have to leave the house as often. But Josh had decided to go shopping today, even though it wasn't really necessary.

Tyler grip on the counter goes white.

He rummages through the drawers and untangles the cord of the clippers.

 

* * *

 

Josh comes home empty-handed and with bright yellow hair.

He's pounding on the locked door of the bathroom, yelling even though he knows he shouldn't because Tyler hates it when peple raise their vocies.

"Tyler! What are you doing? Let me in!"

"I'm fixing it," he mumbles, too quiet for Josh to hear through the door. "I'm fixing it."

Tyler sets the still buzzing device down as the banging evolves from a fist to a shoulder. He opens the door just as Josh prepares to run into it again. His relief is temporary, shaking his head as he reaches up to touch the hair still on Tyler's head.

"What are you doing?" he asks again, much softer.

"I'm fixing it," Tyler tells him, like he has. He moves Josh's hands away from his head. "Will you help me?"

Josh squeezes his eyes shut, takes a deep breath, and brushes past Tyler, picking up the clippers. Tyler sits on the edge of the bathtub.

Tyler ignores they way Josh wipes his eyes before carefully pressing the electronic blades to his scalp.

 

* * *

 

Tyler awakens to the sensation of liquid being dumped on top of him. The sickly warmth that spreads over him pairs too well with the tangy scent of blood filling his nostrils.

He doesn't realize he's screaming until he feels Josh wrap his arms around him, pawing at his chest and telling him over and over  _you're okay Tyler please stop, you're safe nothing is happening you're okay._

Tyler keeps screaming in hopes Josh will notice the blood leaking from their ceiling, flooding the room and dripping down into his freshly dyed hair. Every time a stream of it touches them, their flesh melts with it. One large drop lands on top of Josh's head and runs over his eye, making it fall out of the socket and dangle against his cheek.

The blood is reaching over the top of the bed, brushing Tyler's fingers still clutching the pillow under him. He clings to Josh, feels their bodies breaking and melding with each other.

Josh rocks them back and forth.

 

* * *

 

The room is brown and crusted with dried blood.

He kicks his legs, fascinated with how they move so differently. One leg is shorter than the other.

He runs one hand from the back of his neck and over, through the tufts of yellow and brown hair and over two different brow bones, a misshapen nose, straight teeth and plump lips, barely there stubble. His other hand explores the uneven valleys of his torso, pale and tan skin forming a patchwork quilt over muscles that are both his and aren't, tracing a box over one side and the absence of another. When his hands meet at the base of his throat, he stretches his arms out to compare. One has lines and a calloused hand, the other a tree and long fingers.

They're fully intertwined.

 

* * *

 

He awakens on their dewy lawn, gasping for air and being unable to find any for a few moments. Something sits him up and holds him, wiping soot and ash off his face. He can feel the heat from what he can assume is actually a safe distance from the inferno, can see the blazing light through his eyelids. He can hear their neighbors calling the fire department and an ambulance.

Most importantly, he can hear Josh wailing into his ear, rocking him and practically screeching at him to  _never ever do that again Tyler, please, you scared the crap out of me, what were you thinking?_

He pushes himself away as sirens call in the distance. He looks to their burning home before cupping Josh face in his hands, resting their foreheads together.

"We're free Josh. We're finally free."

Josh only shakes his head and cries harder.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I tried a lot of new things with this and I'm not really sure how I feel about them. Feedback?


End file.
